Revelation II: Day of the Black Dragon
by windwraith
Summary: Gunther found a Dragon of his own and an elf that claims him as kin. He decided to leave leave Kipper Castle to seek his destiny in a magical realm where his past and future collide. AU Continuation of "Dawn of the Black Dragon" Family fic-no parings
1. 1 Introduction

This story is something of a continuation of my story ' Dawn of the Black Dragon'

I wrote it a long time ago but it was quite popular in its day. The trouble was that that story resolved itself leaving several contentious plot bunnies and they started to fight one another. I was forced to have them relegated to the back of the hutch. I've have bits written for several stories but time passes and other things get in the way. What i had was the makings of a story arch. Thinking of it in that way is less intimidating. Still i think it is only fair to warn you that the big picture is still out of my reach. I HATE leaving stories unfinished. This segment seems to stand on its own. I would like to post other bits as they come to me but i sadly I can not make any promises.

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><p>Revelation II: "Day of the Dragon"<p>

Chapter One: Prologue

Adapted Anglo-Saxon words, some were used in my first story but I noted them again just in case. Other words are defined in the text.

_Cāsere__Inwidsorth_: Drakes Former master, literally 'Emperor Sorrow' the name also means 'Evil Care'

_Werian_: An elvin healer Name means "to protect or defend"

_Initium:_ Latin meaning "entrance" or "beginning," literally "a going in." The related English verb, "initiate" means to begin or start a particular action, event, circumstance, or happening.

_Middan__ġ__eard:_middle realm, middle earth

_Eorth_: earth

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><p>Drake Ebonshade was curled nonchalantly in a nominally shady corner of the courtyard one could almost call him inconspicuous-at least as inconspicuous as a large black dragon could be. This was notably less conspicuous than the big green dragon presently draped across the battlements—belly to the sky—rattling the roof tiles with his snores. Drake's tufted ears were flattened against his scaled head. In the black dragon's homeland of <em>Swǽtan<em>_Ēalond,_ exposing oneself as the green was, amounted to suicide. It was not for nothing that his kingdom was called 'the bloody isle' in the language of the ancients. Drake had been a slave there and his wings were still healing from injuries caused by flaming arrows launched at him when he fled the emperor's palace. But the green dragon was apparently a native of Kippernium and had grown up under far different circumstances. "Is he always this noisy?" the black dragon asked curiously.

"I would say so, yes" Squire Gunther confirmed not breaking the rhythm of his sword training: lunge and recover… advance and thrust… parry, riposte… and lunge…the young man stood several feet away, his intense eyes focused on his shadow dancing across the flagstones.

"Bend your knees more and keep your back straight." The elf reclining against Drake's flank directed. Until three weeks ago everyone in Kipper castle believed Elves were nothing more than fireside tales. But there was Werian in his pointy-eared, amber-eyed, glory. The Elf and his jewel lizard companion Pip, hailed from the same kingdom as Drake and they had gone to a considerable amount of trouble to find the black dragon and bring him back to lead a rebellion against his former master the sorcerer _Cāsere __Inwidsorth_.

There had been no question that Gunther would accompany them. The aloof young squire and cynical battle-dragon were partners…bonded so closely they shared emotions at times. It seemed natural-each providing what the other most needed, it was like magic…It WAS magic. That was something else the ebony hared youth would have to get accustomed to, the existence of magic. Magic had brought Drake, Werian and Pip from the realm of _Middan__ġ__eard_ through something called a veil and into his world, which they called _Eör__th_. Magic would enable them to traverse the way back again. The young Squire suspected there was no way to prepare for such a thing…one just had to do it. And the time was quickly approaching when they would do just that.

Gunther corrected his stance and began the routine again. Each movement was almost agonizingly slow as he sought to memorize the way his body felt as it moved. He tried to make each transition smooth, flowing naturally from one shape to the next. -recover… advance and thrust… parry, riposte… and lunge! His muscles burned from the strain but Gunther was accustomed to the feeling. He knew the pain would be far greater if he neglected his exercises and permitted his limbs to stiffen and cramp.

When the young squire felt confident enough with the sequence he let his body move on its own and tried to shift his mind to other things… "So Werian," He addressed the elf, "If my mother was your aunt…why is it that I do not look like you?" Gunther had lived his entire life ignorant of his mother's identity…the revelation that she was an elvin noble from a distant realm had come as a complete shock. He was getting used to the idea but it was still very strange and he had many questions.

"That is an easy one," the lithe figure said twisting a strand of mottled hair between nimble fingers before tucking it behind a delicately pointed ear. "How old are you?" Werian asked the squire.

"Fourteen this past spring." Gunther confirmed the tip of his blade lowering only a fraction of an inch revealing his concentration wavered. He repeated the exercise. -Parry, riposte…advance and thrust- flawless this time.

"That is right, you are still a pup." The elf smiled showing his prominently pointed eye teeth. "Though I expect you will start feeling the change before this time next year." The elvin healer had been three months past this sixteenth birthday when he finally lost his blunt edged 'milk-teeth' and slipped into the great wood for the _Initium_. The changes might be a bit more subtle in his little half-elvin cousin but it seemed Gunther would not suffer the same frustrating delay Werian had. In fact, the signs were already there for those who knew how to read them.

"It can happen as early as 10 or as late as 17…15 is about average though." Werian explained idly caressing the little bronze dragon-like creature nestling in his lap.

Pip crooned in response but still tried to wriggle its head into the sling containing the elf's healing left arm. A long sticky tongue probed gently at his keeper's bruised flesh. "Fix…fix," The little jewel-lizard murmured quietly, and snuffled at its keeper's injury. Werian did his best to ignore the creature's clumsy ministrations.

Gunther ignored the little lizard too. The elf's words made him forget his drills as well, "What change? How will I know?" The boy wanted to know, "What will it be like?" he asked, not noticing his sword arm drooped till the carefully edged blade almost touched the scarred stone courtyard.

"Well, your voice will shift for one, just as would be expected from your human half. I expect you already have difficulty managing a convincing battle cry." The elf guessed. It was providential Werian discovered the boy when he did. He knew the transition was difficult enough for a full blooded elvin youngling with the support of his kin. It would surely have been difficult for Gunther to be alone and ignorant of his heritage when the change took place.

"Can too!" The squire scowled defensively… last month he practiced his warrior shout every day for almost a full week, He just HAD to have made SOME progress.

"I beg to differ—" A voice said from behind, startling him so completely, he nearly dropped the blade. Gunther turned to see Jane, the unorthodox female squire, smirking back at him. "—Sir Ivon said you could stop, because your attempts were giving everyone within earshot a splitting headache," She finished.

"You…you are no better, you know" Gunther sputtered, "You scream like a…like a girl."

"I am a girl." The flame hared squire smiled back at the flustered boy. "I might as well use what nature gave me. Princess Lavinia provided a few helpful pointers as well. Speaking of nature, your wolf-howl is not exactly third rate—maybe you should stick with that." Jane enjoyed sparring with Gunther whether it was with practice blades or with words; he usually gave as good as he got. But ever since she, Dragon and Drake rescued him from the abuse he had been subject to in his father's house the boy had not quite been himself.

Gunther had been badly mistreated. The painful truth had shocked everyone, but Jane believed the best way to get the dark haired squire back to normal—was to treat him normally—which was not always easy. "I am flying on patrol," she invited casually then half-turned holding a hand to her mouth she called up to the dozing Green, "If I can find a certain lazy frog to fly with!"

"Ohhh…I am asleep…you see me asleep…tell her I am asleep Drake." Dragon groaned, holding a great forepaw over his closed eyes. The green was always loath to vacate his favorite basking spot when the sun was high.

"Come on Lizard lips." Jane goaded. "Sir Theodore wants us to check the south road again…now." She did not say – 'To see if there is any sign of Gunther's father' though everyone knew that was indeed what she was doing. Magnus the merchant had not been seen since Drake half tore down his manor house in effort to locate the missing squire… in the process freeing the elf and jewel-lizard, who had also been imprisoned there.

It was still unknown what the king would do once they did locate the merchant but one thing was clear Gunther would no longer be in a position to take the man's abuse. In addition, Drake had been quite clear that if the merchant should _try_ to lay a hand on the boy (or in any way seemed threatening) the man would be eaten without delay. Which seemed a very good reason for the oily merchant to make himself scarce 'till the situation cooled down.' Gunther was still not sure how he felt; not knowing where the man was and what he was about…meant he could be anywhere-doing anything, and that notion unnerved the young man a bit more than he cared to admit. He sighed.

Subjected to the flame haired girl's continued entreaties, the green dragon sighed forlornly and rolled off the wall, stretched his wings, and yawned expansively. "Short-lives…do not appreciate a perfectly good napping opportunity." Jane just rolled her eyes at dragon and climbed up to her usual position straddling his great scaled neck directly behind his head.

When Gunther flew with Drake he perched between the larger beast's wings. The black dragon was a war-beast trained in combat flying and knew how to keep a rider safe even in the most difficult of circumstances; While Jane's dragon had been solitary, seemingly the last of his species. Drake likely knew more about flying than Dragon did. Even so, Jane was not ready to concede that Gunther's way was any better than her own. It was a matter of personal pride, hers and Dragon's. If it worked, why change things? She reasoned.

That was a question Jane found herself contemplating more and more frequently as of late. Gunther would be leaving with Drake, Werian and Pip and she and Dragon would be setting out on a quest of their own soon thereafter. The female squire would do anything for her green friend. There was no doubt about it. But she had never thought she would be called to do something as monumental as helping Dragon un-lock his magic.

The mighty black dragon told them that magic is the Maker's gift to all Dragon-kind their birthright and the only way to kindle the mighty 'second fire' within them. According to Drake, mature dragons should be able to fly or flame with barely a thought through mastery of their innate magic. Dragon did both, without any perceptible use of magic instead he carefully manipulating the gasses his body produced because of a mostly vegetarian diet. The black dragon revealed that a freeborn fledgling dragon might gorge himself on vegetation to play at being a mature wyrm…but at 300 Dragon should have outgrown the need for such artificial means long ago. But dragon had never had the benefit of others of his kind to teach him so it was understandable he was a bit…immature.

The pronouncement seemed a bit presumptuous to Jane. Physically Drake and Dragon were quite different and they were admittedly from two different worlds. Who could say what was true in one world was true in all? The two dragons had only been acquainted a matter of weeks. Jane had known the green lizard for years. She knew Dragon would be devastated if Drake was wrong in his assessment. He'd lived without magic for a long time…he had been quite reluctant to admit it even existed. But now he dared hope…and Jane did not want to see him hurt.

The young girl tried not to let either dragon know how worried she was about the upcoming adventure. Dragon was a perceptive beast and guessed something was wrong but she told him it was nothing more than a knight's concern that the kingdom would be unprotected while the four of them were off questing.

In fact, she very much wished Drake would delay his return to his own world long enough to guide Dragon on his kindling quest. In her heart she knew the decision to have her be the one to help the green was not just for reasons of friendship; it was expedience. Drake could not delay his return to his own world and Dragon was far too impatient wait till the others completed their quest in _Middan__ġ__eard_. Dragon wanted to prove himself every bit as capable as the larger beast; Now.

The trouble was, Jane could not see how she could in anyway fulfill the roll of a parent dragon. Drake had never been a parent either…but at least he was the proper species and had undergone the quest himself. He would know what Dragon needed far better than she.

"Do be careful Jane." Gunther said…so quietly she almost missed the remark. Before she could reply the green dragon leapt into the air. As the wind rushed past she was left to ponder how strange the other squire had become.


	2. 2 Leave Taking

Chapter Two: Leave taking

_**Anglo Saxon **__**terms:**_

_Draca__Nihtscūa:_Drake's formal name, he translates it Drake Ebonshade, though, Dragon Night Shadow is also appropriate.

_Healdend:_means Lord: Guardian, translation in the old tongue of "Sir Knight"

_Petit__Prewitt_: "little valiant one"Pip's real name,Old French. Pip means perseverance.

"_Wodan__" _the name of Werian's pony: Anglo-Saxon or High-German equivalent of the god Oden; Known as the leader of the hunt and a healer of horses; the horseshoe is his symbol as a talisman of good luck.

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><p>"As muscles and bones move beneath flesh, magic is like a ribbon dancing across the surface of the world." Werian had explained. The gate and the magic necessary to cross only converge in certain places at certain times. Now was the time. Finding the place was up to Pip. The jewel lizard was particularly attuned to such things and the elf seemed to trust the creature's instincts.<p>

Gunther never imagined leaving the kingdom of his birth and he was not as trusting of the elf, or his flit brained pet. Gunther would much rather Drake was leading the way, but the Black dragon had not taken conventional path on his previous crossing between one world and the next. He had ridden a shockwave of wild magic his former master unwittingly triggered with his dark sorcery. It was not an experience The dragon wished to repeat if he could possibly help it and seemed content for the tiny winged lizard to lead the way.

Gunther was surprised when Pip led them to a place superstitious town folk called "the vale of the giants." He had always been one to disregard stories of fairy rings and standing stones but a living breathing elf is rather convincing proof that the old stories **were** founded on grains of truth after all.

Werian reigned in his shaggy pony, _Wodan_, and dismounted. Likewise Gunther slid down the black dragons flank landing gently in the spongy peat beside the road. "The sun is setting; we must go on alone from here." Werian told the rest of the party that had accompanied them from the castle. "I thank you for your hospitality."

The king dismounted and embraced the elvin prince as one royal to another. "I regret you were first met with hostility in this world but it was certainly a pleasure to rectify the situation. Be welcome always in my peaceful realm."

"Here I have learned how great a kingdom can be when it is justly governed…I pray that my own will soon learn to be free." Werian bowed low.

Drake and Sir Theodore were saying their goodbyes as well. The two warriors, man and dragon had come to enjoy each others company and shared many an old tale in the past weeks. For the first time it seemed Sir Theodore was more comfortable with the reality that his ancestors had been dragon slayers. Drake battled humans and dragons both and felt the bite of steal and claw in equal measure. It helped put the situation in perspective. With dragons as with humans there were good ones and bad and in war different rules apply. "I bid you God-speed _Draca__Nihtscūa_." Sir Theodore used the Dragon's formal name and bowed crisply.

"Abide in the Makers mercy _Healdend_ _Heaþodēor_." The dragon returned the bow. Drake could not help but smile, months earlier he would have scoffed at the notion of a human bearing the same name as the bronze dragon that had sired him but _Heaþodēor_ meant 'Brave in battle' in the old tongue and by all accounts Theodore was worthy of the name.

For Gunther and Sir Ivon parting was something of a more prickly issue. "So." The burly knight rumbled.

"So…" Gunther echoed equally speechless as he regarded his red faced mentor. There is no telling how long the two would have stood there regarding each other had the princess not raced between them.

Little Lavinia had insisted on accompanying the party so she could say good bye to Pip. The little royal with her dragon wings of wood and cloth looked a perfect companion to the little bronze lizard winging after her. They giggled and frisked in the grass oblivious to all around them. She scooped armfuls of flowers and showered the bright eyed pet who licked her upturned nose and chirped his name for the girl _"__li,__li__Inia__"_

She gave the little creature her best gap-toothed grin and made her green wings flap at him._ "__Pip,__Pip__Prewitt!__"_ she chirped back to her bright-eyed little playmate.

Ivon sighed at the sight and looked over to the great black dragon still in conversation with the elder knight. Last autumn when Gunther's father announced he had a dragon egg for sale Ivon would have done anything to possess it himself. That one had been a fake. But his squire was about to undertake a journey to a place where real ones might be had. "Gunther lad…should you…in your travels should you happen upon an egg or a little one…" He nodded at Pip then brought his gaze back to the dark haired dragon rider. The words fell away again.

Gunther knew how much the man dreamed of dragons and thought he knew where the man was going. But when their eyes met Ivon earnestly begged him to forget it. "Ach my laddie, just come home yourself safe." The burly knight lunged and caught the stripling boy in a giant hug, tears in his blue eyes.

Gunther was completely unaccustomed to being hugged but a half-forgotten voice in the back of his mind bid him to be still and enjoy the indignity a bit. Even so he found it quite difficult to breathe. "S-I-R!" Gunther gasped and Ivon loosed him. The young squire straightened his doublet, "I shall do my level best. You have taught me well, and I am not ill equipped." Gunther motioned to the cart drawn by Werian's pony. It seemed everyone in the castle and many villagers as well had wanted to contribute to this unprecedented journey.

While Gunther had not let Ivon empty the armory on his behalf; a stout bow, two axes, two ash spears, a linden shield, helm and short sword proudly crowned the pile. Gunther thought he had seen a crossbow and at least three dozed arrows as well. The young squire hoped the 'bowling ball of doom' had been left behind but there was no telling what other surprises had managed to slip into the cart when no one was watching. Ivon smiled and clapped the young man on the shoulder. "You will be all right laddie buck."

"I will." Gunther agreed with a might more confidence than he had been able to muster thus far. The taciturn young man was still in awe of the grand sendoff they had received. Everyone had wished them luck…everyone but Jane. The young squire could not help but feel a bit guilty when he recalled how he had acted last year when after a rash of dragon related mishaps and destruction Jane had told everyone she and the winged cataclysm were leaving because they had received an offer to stay in another kingdom and he had reveled in the announcement.

True, Gunther had known her story was fabrication from the first and but had desperately wanted to see how she would talk her way out of the corner she had gotten herself into – but in retrospect he realized he should not have been quite so smug about it. It was no wonder she disliked him—even so it felt strange not to have taken proper leave of his fiery fellow squire…and her troublesome dragon.

Werian prepared to leave; drawing a hood over the pony's eyes so it would not be frightened as they made the crossing. It also helped ensure the creature would not spook being so near to Drake. In _Swǽtan__Ēalond_ dragons were almost as common as horses_._Dragon's rarely eat horses, mainly because they realized horses were beasts of burden tasked with duties a dragon would not relish, such as tilling fields, pulling carts and journeying to places not easily accessible by air. If there were not enough horses than the dragons would be forced labor in their place, and they already had more than enough grunt work assigned to them.

The horses however knew instinctively that they were prey animals and being around such a large predators made them skittish. Mountain ponies like Wodan tended to be a bit more stable but it was always good to take precautions.

Werian called Pip to his wrist with a sharp whistle. The little lizard licked the princess's cheek one last time and flew to his keeper crooning softly as they mounted.

"Time to go." Gunther told Ivon unnecessarily. "I have left a box of things on my pallet in the knight's quarters. You will keep them safe for me yes?"

"Of course lad," Ivon agreed offering a hand to help Gunther reach his perch between the black dragon's wings.

"Wait!" a voice called and in a swirl of sand and leaves Dragon and Jane plummeted out of the sky. Breathlessly the lanky girl jumped off the green dragon's nose and ran at Gunther.

"I am sorry I… Jane…I should have-" he began to apologize but she cut him off.

"—Here." She thrust a long bundle into his hands.

"What…Jane this is your dragon rune sword, I can not take this!" he exclaimed in wide eyed astonishment.

"You can, and you will. Dragon and I talked it over. This is the blade of a dragonslayer." She quickly showed him how to align the runes symbols in the handle so the pommel came apart to reveal a strong chord. Her fellow squire was well aware of the mind numbing wail that chord made when she spun the weighted end over her head but he never knew how it came apart. "What ever the blade is made of can hurt or kill dragons. Here Dragon is the only one of his kind and I would just as soon not have something that can be used to kill him laying about. In Drake's world I understand there are many dragons, not all of them nice. You may need this do protect yourself…or defend Drake."

"I will bring it back to you." Gunther promised knowing she was entirely correct.

Jane shook her head, red hair bobbing "It does not matter. Go, do what you need to do and see Drake comes back…hopefully we will have found Dragon's magic by then but I'm sure there is still plenty of other things Drake can teach him."

"We are loosing the light Cousin." Werian called starting down the path. "We need to be beyond the woods before the sun sets. If not we will not have another chance till midsummer's eve."

"Fair-well Jane." He said scaling Drake's foreleg unaided, "Dragon…Do try to keep each other out of trouble will you!"

The green dragon snorted sending a jet of smoke into the air, he and Drake had already said all they needed to the night before and he was not about to dignify that last comment with a response; 'short-lives,' was all he said.

Drake leapt into the air and sailed down the valley to catch up with the elf and they entered the ancient forest together just as dusk began to shroud the world and the Time-between-times began.


	3. 3 & 4 The crossing and two edged trust

Chapters 3 & 4: The Crossing

The path disappeared soon after they entered the woods even Drake's footfalls made no sound in the deep loam. Some of the trees were incredibly ancient and so large the black dragon would have to stand on his hind legs to reach the beard like moss that hung from even the lowest branches. "Creepy." Gunther's voice sounded loud in the unnatural silence.

Even blindfolded _Wodan_ tossed his head and pawed the ground uneasily. The elf was forced to dismount and lead the pony. So Gunther opted to travel on foot as well. He patted Drake's neck before sliding to the ground. "I do not expect you need a rider to guide you, do you old horse?"

"Old horse?" the dragon snorted derisively but smiled at him none the less. Through the bond they shared there was no doubt the young squire meant the epithet as a term of endearment and not an insult. In the same way he called Gunther 'elf-boy' before his true heritage was known Drake suspected 'old horse' had hidden meaning for his boy. The dragon made a mental note to ask him about it later. For now he walked carefully behind the cart ready to grab it if _Wodan_ tried to bolt into the strange green mist that closed around them as they pressed deeper into this pass between worlds.

The mist thickened and churned till they could barely make out the leafy giants that inhabited this primordial world. Faint lights glimmering in the darkness like will-o-the-wisps; amber and blue, violet and rose hazy colors danced in the mist. "Nar'o-way…musnt-stray." Pip cheeped launching from his keepers shoulder.

The little lizard was somehow aware that the others could not sense the path through the murky darkness the way he could so he flew in lazy circles guiding them through the neither world. He danced through the air spiraling and zigzagging through the trees. It was not for nothing they were named jewel lizards for like a brilliant gemstone his bronze scales glinted in the deepening twilight.

There were no birds or insects here. But Pip filled the hazy world with music of his own. Flickering about the edges of his mind Gunther found himself straining to make out the words. Though he never let it be known, Gunther was a bit of a composer and in that strange formless world he felt compelled to join in. In a clear tenor that would have taken any in the castle by complete surprise he sang:

Give way…give way, night turns the day.

My world, thy world…none can say.

Both realms turn again to tales of old

No one knows what the future holds

All is wrought by the maker's hand

Though shadow descend upon the land

The blood price was paid, truth let fly

Come nigh…come nigh…spirit cracks the sky.

The wind kicked up, and as if summoned by the words of the song the four travelers felt skin and hide prickle as it does sometimes just before a lightning storm breaks. "That song…where did you…how did you?" Werian gasped in open astonishment.

Gunther shrugged "Pip, it is his song, I was only copying."

"But the words!" the elf marveled and looked to the dragon for confirmation. "Drake?"

"I heard him Warin. Who can know the secrets that lay hidden in this place of dreams?" Drake said, though Gunther had no idea what the other-worlders were going on about.

"Iz-way Iz-way…Nar'o-way!" the jewel lizard directed pointing. The others could do nothing but follow. Beneath them was naught but insubstantial mist but somehow the trail arched upward finally breaching the canopy. The wind increased and it seemed they were traversing a great green thunderhead. Above them was the great cavern of the sky, velvet littered with a multitude of shooting stars that trailed lightning of green and gold in their wake. It dazzled the eyes and took ones breath away.

It seemed they had only gone a little way before the unseen trail dipped down again and the misty darkness seemed all the more foreign after they had seen the brilliance of the heavens above. In an eternity or an instant the passage between the worlds was made. The mist receded and the trees seemed more like the usual sort. When the travelers emerged from the vale on the other side, dawn was just breaking over a world quite different from the one they had left. They had arrived in _Middan__ġe__ar__d._

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><p><span>Chapter <span>Four: A Two-edged Trust

_Orlena:_ a Dragon's name meaning: gold light, Latin

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><p>Gunther, Drake and Werian walked abreast of one another, leading the heavy laden mountain pony out of the wood. The warm gold of sunrise had at first colored the path they traveled but as the sun climbed higher in the sky its hue became more muted. Strangely hued clouds resolved themselves in the air above and soon choked the sky with violet mounds. All the colors seemed slightly skewed. The packed earth trail they followed seemed a washed out grey and the leaves on the trees around them seemed more silver than green.<p>

Gunther was struck by the strangeness of it all nervously he fiddled with the rotating bands on the pommel of Jane's sword. click…click…click: the runes shown through small windows in grip. He wondered how many hours it had taken Jane to solve the puzzle only to tell him out right. He still wasn't sure he believed her reasoning for sending the blade with him. It seemed very strange…obscure, like the sky here. "Is it always so overcast? Gunther asked finally, "I expect it will rain any moment."

"We do have sunny days on occasion, though rarely." Warin smiled at him "But what you see are not rain clouds."

Click…click, went the sword again. Gunther looked at the sky appraisingly, the clouds certainly seemed ominously heavy too him. He wondered how the elf could be so sure.

Drake answered his unasked question. "War wizards conjure the clouds to mask a wing practicing their tactics or readying for attack. Those are for concealment not the natural sort."

"Then there could be other Dragons about?" Gunther asked wide eyed, unconsciously leaning into Drake's side. All his life he had never even considered the possibility of a threat from above.

"I expect there are. But the clouds obscure their view of us just as surely as our view of them. Even if one should drop below the clouds they should be too busy to take note of us anyway." the dragon rumbled, sending a comforting jet of warm air toward the boy. "But that doesn't mean there is no danger. Perhaps we should get that blade of yours bonded…just in case."

"Blade…bonded?" Gunther echoed confused.

Drake had felt the blade sleeping even while it hung sheathed at Gunther's hip, now that he had been toying with it, Drake had all he could do not to cringe away from the blade. The black dragon knew how demanding such a weapon could be, could it be Gunther did not? Perhaps Jane hadn't had the time to tell him… Now that he thought of it, she might not have known herself. Drake thought it best to explain, "A dragon blade is made from the bones of a dragon and is one of the few materials that can rend dragon hide. If a rider is going to wield such a blade he needs to ensure it cannot accidentally harm his mount. That requires magic."

Gunther carefully aligned the runes as Jane had instructed, combining 'Birth and Blade' closest to the cross guard positioning the rune for 'Love' went in the middle and 'Death' was at the outside end. Then he carefully withdrew the pommel on its chord and spun it experimentally. The weighted end let out a low moan but Werian leaned over and caught the chord arresting its movement before it could wail the way Jane used it to signal dragon.

"In battle…you spin the sharp end." The elf said, "But unless you would like to take off one of Drake's wings…I would not recommend trying that till AFTER it is bonded to him."

"Perhaps you had best explain what I am to do." The squire said eyes-wide at the suggestion.

"It is between you two." Werian said, the words caught in his throat. He had been a dragon rider and the memory of the bond he had shared with his precious _Orlena_still pained him. The barbed ballista bolt that pierced her heart it tore away a piece his as well. All his skill as a healer could not bring her back, or diminish the ache that came with loosing her. Pip helped…but only to an extent. Elves were long lived to be sure…but the core of his being argued they were not meant to outlive their dragon partner.

Drake looked intense. His former master _Cazar_ _Inwidsorth_ had forced the bonding on him through sorcery and the pain of it still seared his soul. As soon as the young dragon had recovered from the shock he tried to flame the power thieving wizard in retaliation, but the blade turned his attack aside. Protecting rider as it did Dragon. He had never felt so helpless, even now he did not revel being placed in that position again. "Do you trust me?" Drake asked.

"Do you even need to ask?" Gunther frowned…what he had with Drake was new to him but there was no denying he had never been so close to another living soul in his whole life.

Drake nodded understanding the depth of feeling behind the boy's words. "Kneel," He directed. "Drive the tip of the blade into the ground so it will stand on its own."

Gunther obeyed carefully, hoping Jane would not be cross if the weapon were somehow damaged by what they were about to do. But she had said he was to use it to protect Drake and if this was the way, then she could not very well complain could she? He smiled to himself recalling the redhead was rather good at finding things to complain about. The merchant's son had learned long ago that even negative attention was still attention. Though his fellow squire insulted him… she was speaking to him, which was more than he got from some of those at the castle.

"Fold your hands over the hilt." The black dragon told Gunther his massive bulk looming over the boy.

Gunther felt small…helpless, till he looked into those luminous golden eyes. "What is next?" he asked.

Drake did not answer, he leaned in and breathed. Scorching air and fire poured from the dragon's mouth and nose. Gunther closed his eyes tight. He did not have time to wonder if this was how it would feel to sit inside smithies furnace. The flame poured down all around him he could feel the heat licking his shoulders, chest, cheeks. The sword hilt grew hot in his hands and the fire danced across the blade but did not touch him.

Against all reason Gunther inhaled deeply and felt as if a spark had caught in his chest. The warmth spread through his veins and his limbs tingled with it. Then all at once it was over. He opened his eyes and saw Drake smiling at him. He expected to see the grass around him burned to a crisp…he half expected to be burned to a crisp himself, but excepting for a few singed hairs on his forearms and the mild tang of smoke clinging to his hair and clothes there was no sign anything had taken place. "WOW" Gunther gasped astonished.

"One more step," the dragon whispered softly, "Take the blade and lay it flat…over my heart, here." He pointed a talon to the place.

Gunther shook getting to his feet but did as Drake directed. He could not help but see the deep gouges that marked Drake's shoulder and chest. Claw marks from another dragon. A deep scar from a ballistae bolt also marred the scales of his side. Either wound could have killed him. The boy gently caressed each mark as he placed the blade as directed.

Drake was holding his breath, eyes scrunched closed just as his had been. Gunther could feel the dragon cringe at the contact of blade against scale as if he too had been singed by its touch though there was no visible mark. Through the bond they shared Gunther could feel how unsettled the dragon felt. One wrong move and this blade could slay him in seconds. "You trust me too." He whispered "I will not let you down." Gunther understood the Runes meaning on a deeper level now. The bond between dragon, rider and weapon was forged by love overcoming death.

"It is done." The dragon said finally opening his eyes. "But promise me you will not use the blade till Werian and I have the chance to show you how. Just because it will not pierce my scales does not mean I want it poking me in the eye.

"I promise" Gunther said taking the sword away. The blade had a bluish cast he had not noticed before and when he looked slant-wise at it, the keen edge shone with rainbows. The weapon still felt warm to the touch. "Do you think we could make it so it could not hurt Pip either?" the squire asked thoughtfully.

Werian was taken entirely by surprise, "Would you?" the elf asked.

"You are his keeper. Do you think he would trust me enough?" Gunther wondered, "I would feel awful if something happened to him, especially by accident."

"Jewels are trusting by nature, it gets them into trouble." Warin explained and called the little lizard to his wrist then cuddled Pip against his chest for a moment. Holding the little creature firmly he instructed Gunther to touch the tip of the blade to Pip's back, between his wings, "Quickly while there is still some heat to it."

Gunther did so. Pip keened once and looked indignant at them both, but the unpleasant contact was so brief the jewel lizard quickly forgot why he had been cross. Soon he was blithely pouncing on acorns in the tall silvery grass.

"That was a prudent thing you did just then." Drake said flicking Gunther's hair with a gentle caress of his tongue. "I would not have thought of it…but I am glad you did."

"I am tired…do you mind if I ride for a bit?" the squire asked weakly.

"Whatever you like elf-boy." Drake smiled back, positioning his forelimb so Gunther could easily climb up between his wings and position himself comfortably astride the leather riding harness Smithy fashioned to Drake's specifications. The young squire fastened the leather straps across his thighs and leaned forward against Drake's neck. He hadn't realized just how much bonding with the blade took out of him but No sooner had he pillowed his face in his folded arms when he was asleep.


	4. 5 Unexpected Encounter

Chapter Five: Unexpected Encounter

Anglo-Saxon terms

Nǽdre ap Mearstapa: name of a Gold dragon. Commonly, Nedra Heath-stalker. Just as _Draca_ means dragon, _N__ǽ__dre_ means serpent. Mearstapa is a wonderer in the wasteland,

_Bricgweardas:_guardians of the bridge, Werian's people.

_W__ælrēownys:_bloodthirstiness, murderous ways

_Heptarchy_ (seven realms) a collective name applied to the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms during late antiquity and the early Middle Ages which eventually unified into Angle-land (England)

_Cw__ē__n__ap__Myr__ð__u:_ Nedre's former master. Means Queen of affliction, disturbance & trouble.

* * *

><p>Free of his hood Wotan tried to outpace the loping dragon. The cart bumped along the rutted road but Werian had no difficulty guiding the pony where he wanted him to go. Pip perched on the elf's shoulder with his head tucked under his wing. The little lizard's snuffling snores were a fine counterpoint to the steady rhythm of hoof-beats. Werian found himself humming the song Gunther had sung as they traversed the way between the worlds. It was so similar to a song his people sang. An ancient song thought to be prophetic. He need only vary the tune minutely and it took on the melancholy tones he knew so well. His baritone was deeper than Gunther's voice but he was no less adept as a songster.<p>

Abide…abide none can hide  
>when the minions of sorrow ride<p>

Hope was lost when worlds were torn

Maker's grief to our shame and scorn

Shadows cast against the light  
>till truth is unbound, no cause to fight<p>

Till the Maker's spirit enters the fray

The word become flesh our price to pay

Gunther's eyes had been closed but he had not been fully asleep, his body moving in time to Drakes sinuous bounding. Hearing the song he smiled to himself and improvised a bridge between the two verses and chimed in with his own. Together the two cousins sang.

Give way…give way, night turns the day.

My world, thy world…none can say.

Both realms turn again to tales of old

No one knows what the future holds

All is wrought by the maker's hand

Though shadow descend upon the land

The blood price was paid, truth let fly

Come nigh…come nigh…spirit cracks the sky.

No sooner did they complete the last phrase when they heard a loud screech and sound like thunder rumbled in the clouds above stopping Drake mid-stride. "Take cover!" the black dragon hissed. Werian struggled to get the pony and cart off the path and into the woods.

Gunther felt Drake cringe beneath him, muscles bunching involuntarily like a coiled spring. Whatever it was had the dragon worried. "I am not leaving you alone." Gunther announced both hands gripping the chain strung between Drakes wings.

Whether the dragon would have objected or not remains unknown because just then, A massive shape plummeted out of the sky impacting the ground with such force that were Gunther on the ground he would surely have been knocked from his feet by the vibration.

As it was, the sight of a gigantic golden dragon barring the path in front of them almost took his breath away. The beast was nearly a third larger than Drake with a ruff of loose skin erect framing its serpentine face the way a lion's mane does. The stranger stood on its hind legs; wings stretched wide, and fore paws upraised it what could only be a fighting stance.

Drake arched his back; wings half furled, one forearm tucked to his chest the other limbs still on the ground. From his perch Gunther watched as the dorsal ridges that ran along the Drake's spine stood erect like a dog's hackles and his ears swiveled back, flat against his head like an angry cat. Drake kept his head closer to the ground, not in subservience but in such a way that he made himself a smaller target. The young squire remembered those scars on the dragon's breast all too well and understood his caution when facing the larger beast.

"_Nihtscūa_!" the Gold dragon rumbled ominously

"_M__ear__stapa_!" Drake hissed back bearing his long fangs, clearly he recognized the stranger and there was no love lost between them. He preferred to do his fighting in the sky but the gold wasn't going to leave him that option. The black dragon side-stepped right keeping his stance guarded.

The gold moved in the opposite direction, slightly overcompensating and it was then Gunther noticed the creatures left eye was milky white and that side of its muzzle was marked by deep rents. Its right eye was full of green fire but its twin was useless. Drake circled again advancing ever so slightly, forcing the larger dragon to mirror the move to keep him in sight.

The gold leaned forward and snapped its jaws at Drake signaling its willingness to fight relying on its greater reach to give it the edge. Drake could not be goaded into striking prematurely. He fought smart keeping his long neck arched close to his body like a swan and side stepped again.

Because of the gold's diminished depth perception it did not register each time Drake circled he also took the opportunity to advance; bringing his opponent well within his threat range. Should Drake lunge he could have the other dragon's neck between his fangs in a heartbeat. "Do not challenge me Nǽdre…This will not be like last time…I swear it."

"This is not part of your range." The Gold said flaring the ruff around its face in open defiance.

"It does not belong to you either. I am too far east, and you are too south. This land belongs to the _Bricgweardas_ and I am here by their leave…can you say the same?" At Drake's words Werian showed himself at the edge of the wood, his very presence declaring that the dragon spoke the truth.

The gold ignored both the elf and the question asking one of its own, "Where have you been Night Shadow?"

"You would not believe me if I were to tell you." Drake scoffed.

"The price on your head might buy my way into the imperial wing." The gold informed him.

"_Cāsere__Inwidsorth_is a faithless sorcerer…he would thank you for the information then plant a rod in your skull for permitting yourself to be damaged." Drake warned quietly

"DAMAGED!" _N__ǽ__dre_shrieked, "You did this to me you, you, _w__ælgǽst_! You took my eye and nearly my wing as well.

"Call me a Murderous spirit will you look to your own _w__ælrēownys!_The black dragon spat the word back at the gold. "You were trying to rip my heart out!" Drake reared up clutching his scaled hand to his scarred breast. "You were the broody one. I fought to defend myself only. Our masters' held truce yet you were trying to harry me out of the sky."

"And now look at me. No dragon hall, no position…I was counted among the prime dragons of the Heptarchy; The queens own. Now I am nothing, a wonderer, without even my eggs to console me!" the gold cried.

"War-dragons do not hatch eggs." Drake whispered to himself but the distraught dragoness overheard the comment.

"I am not much of a war dragon now am I?" She angrily sent a jet of steam from her nostrils. Reflexly Drake spread his wings to protect his rider should _N__aedra_ decide to flame.

"Shhh," Drake encouraged softly, "Some would envy your freedom. There is more to life than war…something I have learned recently. You are free to do as you wish. I am well rid of _Inwidsorth_ and I suspect _Cw__ē__n__ap__Myr__ð__u_ was no better master to you. Find a rider you can respect or find some _Cynn_ in the wilds. Should you clutch again, the eggs will belong to none but you. We want that for all dragons; and elves too. We have been slaves too long. It is time the Emperor was dealt with. "

"I will think on what you have said Drake Ebonshade. Count yourself lucky this day did not end in bloodshed."" She said launching herself once more into the sky.

"I always do… Nedra Heath-Stalker, I always do." Drake echoed after her.

"You did well Drake." Gunther patted the dragons shoulder encouragingly, "like a regular diplomat…I do not think Sir Theodore could have done as well."

From behind them a nasal voice loudly announced, "Well that was down right disappointing… all you did was talk…Bla-Bla-Bla…BORING!" the voice whined.

With total and complete horror Dragon and Rider turned to see a very defiant Prince Cuthbert Hakan Kippernook worm his way out from among the baskets and barrels in the cart and brush himself off. "Honestly, I expected more of you both. Where were the flames, the beating of wings? What did we get…Not even a proper roar-You dragon should have ripped her throat out. You have got those bloody great claws for a reason you know. And you squire, you are not such a bad shot…why did you not string your bow and plant one of those barbed arrows smithy made in her other eye? " the Prince sneered.

The others merely blinked at him in speechless response.


	5. 6 Troublesome Development

Chapter Two: Leave taking

_**Anglo Saxon **__**terms:**_

_Draca__Nihtscūa:_Drake's formal name, he translates it Drake Ebonshade, though, Dragon Night Shadow is also appropriate.

_Healdend:_means Lord: Guardian, translation in the old tongue of "Sir Knight"

_Petit__Prewitt_: "little valiant one"Pip's real name,Old French. Pip means perseverance.

"_Wodan__" _the name of Werian's pony: Anglo-Saxon or High-German equivalent of the god Oden; Known as the leader of the hunt and a healer of horses; the horseshoe is his symbol as a talisman of good luck.

* * *

><p>"As muscles and bones move beneath flesh, magic is like a ribbon dancing across the surface of the world." Werian had explained. The gate and the magic necessary to cross only converge in certain places at certain times. Now was the time. Finding the place was up to Pip. The jewel lizard was particularly attuned to such things and the elf seemed to trust the creature's instincts.<p>

Gunther never imagined leaving the kingdom of his birth and he was not as trusting of the elf, or his flit brained pet. Gunther would much rather Drake was leading the way, but the Black dragon had not taken conventional path on his previous crossing between one world and the next. He had ridden a shockwave of wild magic his former master unwittingly triggered with his dark sorcery. It was not an experience The dragon wished to repeat if he could possibly help it and seemed content for the tiny winged lizard to lead the way.

Gunther was surprised when Pip led them to a place superstitious town folk called "the vale of the giants." He had always been one to disregard stories of fairy rings and standing stones but a living breathing elf is rather convincing proof that the old stories **were** founded on grains of truth after all.

Werian reigned in his shaggy pony, _Wodan_, and dismounted. Likewise Gunther slid down the black dragons flank landing gently in the spongy peat beside the road. "The sun is setting; we must go on alone from here." Werian told the rest of the party that had accompanied them from the castle. "I thank you for your hospitality."

The king dismounted and embraced the elvin prince as one royal to another. "I regret you were first met with hostility in this world but it was certainly a pleasure to rectify the situation. Be welcome always in my peaceful realm."

"Here I have learned how great a kingdom can be when it is justly governed…I pray that my own will soon learn to be free." Werian bowed low.

Drake and Sir Theodore were saying their goodbyes as well. The two warriors, man and dragon had come to enjoy each others company and shared many an old tale in the past weeks. For the first time it seemed Sir Theodore was more comfortable with the reality that his ancestors had been dragon slayers. Drake battled humans and dragons both and felt the bite of steal and claw in equal measure. It helped put the situation in perspective. With dragons as with humans there were good ones and bad and in war different rules apply. "I bid you God-speed _Draca__Nihtscūa_." Sir Theodore used the Dragon's formal name and bowed crisply.

"Abide in the Makers mercy _Healdend_ _Heaþodēor_." The dragon returned the bow. Drake could not help but smile, months earlier he would have scoffed at the notion of a human bearing the same name as the bronze dragon that had sired him but _Heaþodēor_ meant 'Brave in battle' in the old tongue and by all accounts Theodore was worthy of the name.

For Gunther and Sir Ivon parting was something of a more prickly issue. "So." The burly knight rumbled.

"So…" Gunther echoed equally speechless as he regarded his red faced mentor. There is no telling how long the two would have stood there regarding each other had the princess not raced between them.

Little Lavinia had insisted on accompanying the party so she could say good bye to Pip. The little royal with her dragon wings of wood and cloth looked a perfect companion to the little bronze lizard winging after her. They giggled and frisked in the grass oblivious to all around them. She scooped armfuls of flowers and showered the bright eyed pet who licked her upturned nose and chirped his name for the girl _"__li,__li__Inia__"_

She gave the little creature her best gap-toothed grin and made her green wings flap at him._ "__Pip,__Pip__Prewitt!__"_ she chirped back to her bright-eyed little playmate.

Ivon sighed at the sight and looked over to the great black dragon still in conversation with the elder knight. Last autumn when Gunther's father announced he had a dragon egg for sale Ivon would have done anything to possess it himself. That one had been a fake. But his squire was about to undertake a journey to a place where real ones might be had. "Gunther lad…should you…in your travels should you happen upon an egg or a little one…" He nodded at Pip then brought his gaze back to the dark haired dragon rider. The words fell away again.

Gunther knew how much the man dreamed of dragons and thought he knew where the man was going. But when their eyes met Ivon earnestly begged him to forget it. "Ach my laddie, just come home yourself safe." The burly knight lunged and caught the stripling boy in a giant hug, tears in his blue eyes.

Gunther was completely unaccustomed to being hugged but a half-forgotten voice in the back of his mind bid him to be still and enjoy the indignity a bit. Even so he found it quite difficult to breathe. "S-I-R!" Gunther gasped and Ivon loosed him. The young squire straightened his doublet, "I shall do my level best. You have taught me well, and I am not ill equipped." Gunther motioned to the cart drawn by Werian's pony. It seemed everyone in the castle and many villagers as well had wanted to contribute to this unprecedented journey.

While Gunther had not let Ivon empty the armory on his behalf; a stout bow, two axes, two ash spears, a linden shield, helm and short sword proudly crowned the pile. Gunther thought he had seen a crossbow and at least three dozed arrows as well. The young squire hoped the 'bowling ball of doom' had been left behind but there was no telling what other surprises had managed to slip into the cart when no one was watching. Ivon smiled and clapped the young man on the shoulder. "You will be all right laddie buck."

"I will." Gunther agreed with a might more confidence than he had been able to muster thus far. The taciturn young man was still in awe of the grand sendoff they had received. Everyone had wished them luck…everyone but Jane. The young squire could not help but feel a bit guilty when he recalled how he had acted last year when after a rash of dragon related mishaps and destruction Jane had told everyone she and the winged cataclysm were leaving because they had received an offer to stay in another kingdom and he had reveled in the announcement.

True, Gunther had known her story was fabrication from the first and but had desperately wanted to see how she would talk her way out of the corner she had gotten herself into – but in retrospect he realized he should not have been quite so smug about it. It was no wonder she disliked him—even so it felt strange not to have taken proper leave of his fiery fellow squire…and her troublesome dragon.

Werian prepared to leave; drawing a hood over the pony's eyes so it would not be frightened as they made the crossing. It also helped ensure the creature would not spook being so near to Drake. In _Swǽtan__Ēalond_ dragons were almost as common as horses_._Dragon's rarely eat horses, mainly because they realized horses were beasts of burden tasked with duties a dragon would not relish, such as tilling fields, pulling carts and journeying to places not easily accessible by air. If there were not enough horses than the dragons would be forced labor in their place, and they already had more than enough grunt work assigned to them.

The horses however knew instinctively that they were prey animals and being around such a large predators made them skittish. Mountain ponies like Wodan tended to be a bit more stable but it was always good to take precautions.

Werian called Pip to his wrist with a sharp whistle. The little lizard licked the princess's cheek one last time and flew to his keeper crooning softly as they mounted.

"Time to go." Gunther told Ivon unnecessarily. "I have left a box of things on my pallet in the knight's quarters. You will keep them safe for me yes?"

"Of course lad," Ivon agreed offering a hand to help Gunther reach his perch between the black dragon's wings.

"Wait!" a voice called and in a swirl of sand and leaves Dragon and Jane plummeted out of the sky. Breathlessly the lanky girl jumped off the green dragon's nose and ran at Gunther.

"I am sorry I… Jane…I should have-" he began to apologize but she cut him off.

"—Here." She thrust a long bundle into his hands.

"What…Jane this is your dragon rune sword, I can not take this!" he exclaimed in wide eyed astonishment.

"You can, and you will. Dragon and I talked it over. This is the blade of a dragonslayer." She quickly showed him how to align the runes symbols in the handle so the pommel came apart to reveal a strong chord. Her fellow squire was well aware of the mind numbing wail that chord made when she spun the weighted end over her head but he never knew how it came apart. "What ever the blade is made of can hurt or kill dragons. Here Dragon is the only one of his kind and I would just as soon not have something that can be used to kill him laying about. In Drake's world I understand there are many dragons, not all of them nice. You may need this do protect yourself…or defend Drake."

"I will bring it back to you." Gunther promised knowing she was entirely correct.

Jane shook her head, red hair bobbing "It does not matter. Go, do what you need to do and see Drake comes back…hopefully we will have found Dragon's magic by then but I'm sure there is still plenty of other things Drake can teach him."

"We are loosing the light Cousin." Werian called starting down the path. "We need to be beyond the woods before the sun sets. If not we will not have another chance till midsummer's eve."

"Fair-well Jane." He said scaling Drake's foreleg unaided, "Dragon…Do try to keep each other out of trouble will you!"

The green dragon snorted sending a jet of smoke into the air, he and Drake had already said all they needed to the night before and he was not about to dignify that last comment with a response; 'short-lives,' was all he said.

Drake leapt into the air and sailed down the valley to catch up with the elf and they entered the ancient forest together just as dusk began to shroud the world and the Time-between-times began.


	6. 7 What is Hidden Beneath

Chapter Seven: What is Hidden Beneath

Prince Cuthbert perched on the back of the cart; arms crossed, scowling as he watched the loose grey soil pass beneath him. His cheek still smarted and despite his forced apology, he fumed. He had looked to Gunther for support and not only had the lazy squire refused to punish the dastardly beast that menaced him, he did not even try to soothe his hurt afterwards.

True Cuthbert was getting to be a big boy, nearly nine in point of fact. He did not need a nursemaid fawning over him every time he turned around. But he WAS a prince and as a member of the household it was Gunther's duty at least to put forth the effort to cajole him. Cuthbert's eyes shone bright as he imagined the episode as it should have happened…

When that beast raised a hand to him Gunther should have been on him in an instant. The squire might have even intercepted the blow before it could have connected with his noble cheek; though the prince suspected THAT level of competence could not be expected of a half-trained peasant boy. Even so, Gunther should have dealt the haughty elf a thrashing he would not soon forget. Then, when the devil was rolling about in the dirt trying to recover, Gunther should have been at his prince's side all wide-eyed with concern smoothing down his hair and offering him sweets to help him get past the indignity of the situation.

Cuthbert would have spurned the young man's attempts, of course, and said something scathing about the Squire needing to be more alert and able to defend against such barbarians. But in light of his awkward attempt at nobility Cuthbert would have permitted the young man to unhitch the bumpy wagon and help him into the pony's saddle. Then he would ride ahead leading the procession, as a prince should. He had enough bumping along like so much baggage. The dragon could manage the wagon or better yet… make the elf pull it for a bit as punishment. The fragile creature would be panting in no time but surely he could never hope to keep pace with the rest of them and that would be unacceptable, so the dragon would have to manage the load for they could not simply leave it for any beggar to steal, for he was positive this horrid wood was likely teeming with them, wretched Elfs all.

The prince reasoned he knew all there was to know about Elfs. His sister has four whole books on the subject and he had looked at the pictures more times than he could count. He had been eavesdropping in the hall when Gunther had told the king about how he had found the creature in his father's manor house. Cuthbert suspected he knew the truth of things. Magnus had clearly meant the beast as a present for his son and had attempted to civilize the creature before giving it as a pet. If the elf had not been given cast-off human clothing it would have been dressed crudely fashioned animal skins and leaves like others of its kind.

Everyone knew elfs build nests in trees the way birds and squirrels do. At night they come creeping around human villages thieving from decent folk and causing mischief because they have no civilization of their own. Of course Elfs are well suited to their shifty ways. They are ajile climbing about whether it is on a tree or roof top. Their big strangely-colored eyes see well in the dark and their pointy ears are sensitive making them wary of loud noises. Their long thin fingers are useful for springing locks reaching in half open windows and cutting purses when no one is looking but they are generally frail and pure Iron burns them. Though they live hundreds of years they remain childishly simple.

They do not get big either. This elf was only a hand-width taller than Gunther and was probably full grown. The scrappy squire should have been able to best him easily! As for the notion that this creature was a prince, much less HIS equal, well, that was just ludicrous. Cuthbert scoffed at the thought and settled back against the parcels in the cart. He did not care if he ruined whatever they contained. He squirmed around a bit to get comfortable and soon was snoring loudly.

Had Cuthbert been awake he likely would hot have noticed the elvin hunters easily pacing then through the woods. The foursome was nothing like the 'elfs' he had imagined. The scouts had been following for sometime before Gunther became aware of their presence. "Oy!" the young squire called out reaching out for his bow and arrows when he realized there was more about them then the shifting shadows.

"Our escort." The Drake rumbled gently. "We will likely come upon the rest of the _Bricgwearda_soon."

"So they are elves?" The young squire asked surprised, Like Cuthbert Gunther had assumed the Fae were generally child-sized. But he would be the dwarf beside these graceful forest wardens. One was nearly as tall as Sir Theodore and all were of similar build. Like Werian their hair was worn long and seemed dappled being both shadow and light. Their garments were not leaves and animal skins but fine variegated silk patterned after the myriad hues of nature.

So focused was the young squire one these, fascinating strangers that only belatedly did he take note of the mounts they rode. Each was closer in size to Werian's mountain pony than the war-horses Gunther was familiar with but they were lean and fine boned with large intelligent eyes. Something about their saddles struck the squire odd but before he could puzzle out what it was, the surprising truth was made clear when of the beasts spread its golden wings and soared past them.

"I-It is a pegasus … They are all riding Pegasuses! Gunther exulted excitedly.

"Elves frequently keep _Pegasi_." Drake explained, careful to use the proper plural form as he did so. "Being so much smaller they require less care than dragons do and are not as dangerous as unicorns or gryphons."

Gunther made a sound of astonishment. Somehow the knowledge that Dragons and elves were real had not lead him to believe that he might encounter other so called mythic creatures on this journey. He watched the winged horse and rider soar upward silhouetted against the colors of the setting sun. It banked and looped scattering a myriad of jewel lizards that had been flitting about chasing one another in treetops. Then lazily the scout drifted back in the direction they had come. A heartbeat later the other three scouts took to the air and soared away as well. Before Gunther could wonder about their leaving Werian let out his breath in a relieved sigh, "I am home!"

Gunther, eyes were still skyward watching the little winged lizards soaring like sparks from a forge. He thought of Pip and wondered if the little bronze had gotten safely back to the castle.

* * *

><p>Chapter Seven B…back in Kipper Castle<p>

* * *

><p>The palace was in an uproar. It was not uncommon for the sulky prince to go missing…but he NEVER missed a meal. Sir Theodore and Sir Ivon were scowering the village. Jane and Dragon were flying over the woods. The royals and the castle staff were searching every nook and cranny in the castle. And, Of course, Cuthbert was nowhere to be found. The king was wringing his hands with grief and the queen was trying very hard to be strong and supportive but she was a mother as much as a queen and her emotions were plainly carved on her porcelain features.<p>

Crossing the Rift between worlds as it shifted was no easy task and Pip clung carefully to the narrow way as it slid through space and time. Powerful forces buffeted the tiny beast but he wasn't giving up. Unnatural wind sought to pluck him from the true path but Pip promised his keeper he could do this and his will to succeed was strong.

The jewel lizard keened loudly to the ominous forest bearing his sharp teeth. "No feared." He hissed and dug his claws purposely in the path crawling one step at a time till wave after wave of nausea and disorientation passed. Pip knew what he was experiencing was in some small measure akin to what Drake experienced when the wild magic tossed him from one end of the sky to the next. The big black dragon had faired far worse, and he was wounded at the time. Pip beat his wings against the diverse forces confined in the void between the worlds and plunged onward on his quest.

Due to the distortion he faced during in the space of an afternoon in the void, the little lizard actually arrived nearly a weak after he had left. The search for the prince was still on going but the inhabitants of the castle were looking worn and weary-eyed with worry.

Pip was graceless in his spastic fluttering as fatigue bore him down. He flew into the panes of glass in one of the clearstory windows and nearly knocked himself senseless in the process. It was the ever vigilant falcon, Trencher, who alerted them to the feverish lizard's presence.

Pip woke to find himself carefully tucked in a laundry basket set by the ovens in the kitchens. He was thoroughly enjoying both the warmth and the delicious smells in the air until he realized the carry pouch was no longer lashed to his chest. "No-no-NONO-no-no!" he squeaked fearing he had failed in the task his master entrusted him with. He flapped his wings but only managed to thrash himself out of the basket and into a bronze heap on the floor.

"Now, now sweet dear," the young cook, Pepper, soothed, "Everything is fine. I took the harness off so you could sleep more comfortably. The king and queen have got what was inside and are much relieved I can tell you! Now you settle yourself back down." She gently eased the little winged hero back into his makeshift bed caressing his smooth scales, "You need rest little one, rest is what you will get. And when you wake there will be plenty of fine fresh fruit, warm broth and whole plate those spicy sausages you like so much."

"Pip…pip." the lizard chirped and let the pleasant smelling female do what she pleased with him. She was right, he was too tired to resist. The thought of sausages accompanied him into his dreams. "Nummy-nummy, n-all-for-me." He mumbled and soon made no sound but the occasional snuffled snore.


	7. 8 Foundling

Chapter Eight: Foundling

Kendra: Werian's little sister: name means knowledge and understanding, nicknames: Cēne (keen, brave) calls her brother Wērum (earnest promise)

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><p>'Home' Werian's word brought Gunther attention once more to the forest around him. To a casual observer the village was all but invisible but as the young squire studied the vale he began to see the village nestled amongst the leafy canopy.<p>

"I see them." Gunther breathed, "I did not before, but now…" In shape and to some degree construction elvin dwellings looked like festival pavilions, round or octagonal with a central pole or other fixture to support the pointed roof which was shaped something like a trumpet flower. But instead of brightly colored striped canvass sent to shelter spectators before the tournament field these structures were made to fade into the background. Some hung suspended in the trees like strange fruit. Others clustered about the trunks almost mushroom like.

"It is amazing how you keep them so hidden." Gunther remarked realizing that though dwellings nestled carefully amongst the branches of the trees surrounding them, most were not actually in the trees; rather each had been constructed on a platform supported by stilts. Bridges connected one platform to the next and stairs or ladders provided access the ground.

"In _Swǽtan__Ēalond_staying out of sight is our best defense against the roving hordes of _Cāsere__Inwidsorth_ and the other warlords if the isle," Werian casually explained. "The structures are fully portable. The entire village can be disassembled and relocated without a trace of our ever having been here. It didn't used to be like that mind you. My people built thriving cities of marble and precious stones but the children of Cain live there now…we are in exile."

From the height of Drake's back Gunther got a close look at several of the dwellings as they drew closer. Despite the temporary nature of the village, there was nothing slap-dash about their design. Each was a splendid marriage of artistry and craftsmanship every surface was decorated with endless knot designs, acanthus leaves, mysterious beasts, and foam crested waves. Gunther had never seen such fine examples of woodcarving and textile work. It was as if the illuminated borders of Sir Theodore's oldest manuscripts and every ledged they depicted had come stunningly to life.

So taken was Gunther by the Elvin homes he missed the first rush of Werian's homecoming; When the dark haired squire did look down from his perch between the black dragon's wings he felt a lump forming in his throat. The young healer barely had time to dismount from his pony before Aunts, cousins, siblings and various other family and friends came pouring from the underbrush clamoring for his attention. 'Wouldn't it be nice to have such caring kin?' Gunther wondered and as sometimes happened between them Drake felt the pang of jealousy in his rider's heart

"These ARE your people too elf-boy." the dragon whispered, "Go say hello."

Gunther caught his breath, the warm flush of yearning extinguished by cold fear and self doubt. "What if they do not like me?" He breathed.

The dragon shrugged his shoulders and Gunther rose and fell with the off-handed motion. "I could always eat them."

The dragon's response made him smile, and smiling made him feel better. He slid casually down Drakes forearm and gazed into his great golden eyes, "Just eat them?" the boy smirked "Is that your answer to everything?"

"You would be surprised how much it simplifies things." The black dragon winked at him and grinned showing his fangs as he did so.

Gunther snorted and shook his head at the playful beast but just knowing Drake was on his side, regardless, made it much easier to turn his back and make his way among the pointy-eared throng.

"Did you bring me anything Wērum?" A petit lass entreated the travel worn elf her bright eyes shining like starlight.

Werian half turned from the tangle of well wishers to grace his littlest sister with the crooked grin that always made her giggle. "We brought many things Cēne mine. Look to the cart and see what catches your fancy." He told her gently before his friends claimed his attention once more.

Kendra did not need to vie for her brother's notice. Werian would make time for her later. He had promised that where ever his path took him he would do all within his power to be there for her no matter what; and so it always had been. She threaded her way back through the crowd to cart and the first thing to catch her eye…was a slightly disheveled, human. The boy yawned and rubbed the sleep out of his eye with one plump little fist. "I like you very much." Kendra informed her new pet and instructed, "Come with me."

"Cēne!" Werian called seeing his sister take the bothersome prince from the cart and having some notion of what she had in mind. She did not seem to hear him. He struggled to disentangle himself from his aunt's earnest embrace.

"Kendra!" he shouted again, this time she did turn the smile on her face was luminous and he was loath to disappoint her, tomorrow I'll tell her the prince wasn't a pet. He promised, He raised his hand and his long fingers flashed her a wordless message to her 'troublesome boy, careful'

She smiled and waved back, leading the hapless prince up to her suite.

Gunther found no difficulty threading his way through the crowd and as soon as Werian noticed him he stretched out a hand to pull him close. "You're just in time." The elvin healer smiled indicating the arrival of another party of elves into the field. Immediately the welcoming throng quieted and stood aside in deference forming a ring with Werian and Gunther at its center.

There were six nobles, silver haired and clad in brightly colored silks. The tallest and most elegant was likely the queen: Though she wore no crown royalty was written in her bearing and expression. She was likely the most beautiful creature Gunther had ever seen. Fine boned with the characteristic high elvin cheekbones and delicately pointed ears. Her skin was like ivory she moved with extreme grace. But it was her eyes that held him riveted. Stormy grey and so deep Gunther got the clear impression not of age but agelessness.

The young squire barely noticed when Werian took several steps toward the riyal party and dropped to one knee. Words of the old tongue flowed like honey from his lips. "Waes hal hlǽfdige mǽre, sele-drēam æt ōþer ælfcynn:" [Be in good health glorious queen, joy to the hall and the elvinKin]

Gunther could not help but recall that Drake had said _Ealdhlāfordcynn_ was a language of power: Drake had been teaching him a bit of the language of the ancient kings, but not enough to understand more than the basics. The words conjured vivid images in his mind but even as he strained toward comprehension the words slipped from his grasp. He got no father than knowing "Waeshal" was a greeting and "Ælfcynn" were elves.

The majestic woman's response was longer and more complex than Werian's had been. As the elegant Elvin queen spoke the liquid tones blended together in a melodious stream of true fluency. Gunther could barely make out where one word ended and the next begun. His mind clung to the few scraps he thought he recognized: "Ferþu hal" Drake had said that was another greeting that translated something like 'health to your spirit.' hāmcyme" was homecoming and "Sigeēadig" seemed to be a combined word made from 'sige' which meant 'victory' and 'ēadig' which was 'blessed' or 'happy'. The young squire was relatively certain the queen was welcoming Werian home and happy to see his quest was successful.

The elvin healer bowed low. Though his fluency did not equal that of the queen, his words were precise and delicately shaped. "Ic Lungre git, cŷdde flyht-brōþor Draca Nihtscūa_,_ Gunnar Bræca, þone þe wæs cændæ BrynWulf," [I Forthwith make known to you the rider (flight-brother) bound to Drake Ebonshade, Gunther Breach, he who was born of Brinwuf.]

Gunther had a bit more luck translating this time as he recognized Drakes formal name and his own in the old tongue, and the term flyht-brōþor made him smile. But it was his mother's name that took the queen by surprise. Her eyes went wide "Eafere …Gunwulf." she gasped and brought her hand to her mouth in undisguised awe. It almost looked as if she were about to swoon.

Concerned, the barest of whispers, Gunther asked Werian, "I-Is she all right?"

The elvin healer smiled gently, "Go to her War-wolf, you are one of us now. She is your godmother."

"She is my what?" the young squire was gaping too now, the shock alone brought him to his feet and he stumbled forward a half a step. Then the beautiful elvin queen bent low and held her arms open to him. "Eafere," she whispered again. Gunther had never heard such raw emotion placed in a single word especially a word that had usually brought such pain: he was awed by the realization that the great forest queen had just called him "Son."

Something in his chest woke within him, unexpectedly making its presence known. The nameless sensation struggled frantically. Before Gunther knew what was happening that something burst forth from walls he built to shield his heart. He did not recall bounding into her arms, but he vaguely registered the tears that streaked his face. His cheeks reddened as he thought of the elvin throng that surrounded them but try as he might he could not restrain himself from snuggling desperately into the grey silk draped across her shoulder.

She smoothed his hair down tenderly and the floodgates of his heart failed utterly. Gunther sobbed he had not since he was a very little child. His chest heaved and he shuddered as emotion sought to consume him. The world spun but he found refuge in the strong arms that sheltered him. Before the last of his tears were spent, Gunther was asleep.

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><p>Authors note: I hope you enjoyed this installment of Dawn of the black Dragon. I hope to peruse more angles in this arc at some point I expect Prince Cuthbert's adventures in this other world could likely be a story in of themselves. But so long as the plot bunnies are being divisive I can not work with them. So unfortunately what you see is what you get. please read and review. ~wraith<p> 


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